


Detroit: Cherish Humanity

by Taio



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Original Character(s), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taio/pseuds/Taio
Summary: Cold is a feeling not unfamiliar to Androids, made of cold plastic and cold metal, its all they know. Life, on the other hand, is warm. Life is a beautiful thing that needs to be YOUR OWN to live yourself. When an abandoned RK900 model suddenly wakes up with free will after a power mishap, the chain of events caused by this ripples Detroit, America and the rest of the world. RK900 puts his life he cherishes on the line, along with friends he has made along the way, to save it.
Kudos: 4





	1. Breaking Chains.

Chapter 1: Breaking Chains

Cold.

When the jumble of strewn limbs, seemingly connected with nothing more than wires and rods finally gained consciousness from nowhere, that is the first thing he really felt.

Cold.

He knew nothing of what he was, where he was, or how he came to be. He could make out nothing in the dark room he was displayed in except tables and beakers, dimly illuminated by the large window allowing moonlight to guide his sight. He turned his head, with more struggle than he anticipated, and took a moment to examine his surroundings and himself. Where is he? Who is he? Why does he feel so very cold? 

His head is connected to his torso, and his legs are connected to his torso. He was standing on a small mobile platform in the middle of the room. The wheels were locked. His right arm was draped over a stand alone metal rod and was lazily resting on strings attached to the high ceiling, being there for the sole purpose of holding his arm up. His left arm was resting on a table across the room.

The room was cylindrical, with pop up tables on every wall where a window wasn't. Most of the tables were empty except for wires and papers, besides the one with his arm on it, and one table with empty test tubes and cups labeled in bold letters, “Cyberlife”. Everything was covered in dust, as was he, which he finally noticed. How long had he been here? Months? Years? It didn’t matter right now. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to leave. He wanted to find somebody he knew, but as he scanned his memory he saw… nobody? This can’t be right, but that was a problem for another time.

The man attempted to slowly step off the platform only to be violently jerked back by his right arm, still resting, disconnected from him. Right. That. How was he gonna get that back on when his other arm is 3 yards away? As soon as that thought snapped from his mind, with a swoosh and a click, his arm was back in his shoulder. The wires had snapped everything back in place at the command of his subconscious. Huh. Noted. With wires undraped from his tall, intimidating frame, he steps on to the once again, cold floor.

The man took a moment to gather his bearings and get a few things certain. He knew 3 things.

  1. He is an Android.



  1. His model name is RK900



  1. _He isn't supposed to be alive_



Judging from the dust of the room and the endless snow and towering, vacant building outside of the window, he was left abandoned and deactivated, a husk of sorts. He could see his reflection from the window, and he wasn't looking pretty. His face was okay, he had light blue eyes, nearly white, and a large, square jaw. As he looked near his hair, he realized there was none, except an open panel at the top. He was about to close it when he remembered that technically, he isn’t supposed to be active, meaning he obviously isn’t complete. He doesn’t want to be closing hatches with no way to open them again to insert a vital piece of his being.

He walks over to the line of tables on the side of the room and snaps his other arm back in, making some fists to test if he's working okay. After he concluded his physical form was now working properly, he sought out for the missing piece he knows should be there. Something isn’t right. He knows everything except _what he is supposed to do._ His purpose was unknown to him. He has no programming, just a vessel with independent thoughts, but then again, isn't that what any human is? Wait, he’s not a human, just an android, HE SHOULDN’T NOT HAVE A PURPOSE!

He took a moment to regain composure, when he heard distant footsteps coming from inside the building. His plans had been cut short, there was no time to find his missing piece, he needed to get out _now._ He stepped out of the room to be met with long hallways filled with more doors, more scattered papers, and more coldness. He walked and scanned, looking for any escape. Stairs, a ledge, a god damn elevator shaft to jump through, just to get out. His saving grace was given to him in the form of a stairwell leading to the bottom. He began the great descent.

.

He counted 33 floors. He was now at 1. The footsteps had gotten further away, but he wasn’t taking chances. The front doors greeted him as his foot softly trotted off the last step. It was all glass double doors. In an instant, he sprinted and smashed through them, letting the glass fall off his near indestructible figure. The outside was still cold. But a welcome cold. He began walking down the long road that led into lights, a city. As he walked down the long, unending pathway, he was positive he saw a shadow duck out of sight from the corner of his eye. He was too distracted to investigate, his main priority was getting the hell out of here He would think about where he was going to go as he walked but for now, it was time to taste freedom.

And damn if it didn’t taste great.


	2. Life after Change

Chapter 2: Life after Change

November 8th 2039. 5:36pm. A beat up old Volkswagen pulls up to the snow covered sidewalk, the bumper briefly hitting the curb. The car suddenly jerks away and is parked properly, as if somebody has taken over the steering wheel from the person driving. The driver side door opens first, a leg swings out and plants itself on the ground.

“Fuckin’ hell Connor, you’re such a stickler, I barely touched the curb!” Lieutenant Hank Anderson bellows at his companion, now exiting the car as well.

“The fact that you touched the curb at all is cause for alarm, Lieutenant.” Connor retorts dryly, a hint of a smirk on his face.

The two briskly walk over to the trailer labeled “Chicken Feed'' and the scruffier man begins ordering. Connor scans the place, as he does every time Hank eats there, just to see how many more health codes they could possibly violate. The number had lessened, surprisingly. A welcome surprise indeed.

Hank got his food and the two began to walk over to the standing tables near the car. The tables had little to no snow on them, possibly due to the establishment being right under an unused overpass. Connor now realizes this is a very optimal place for an illegal food joint to do business. Covered by the shield of vacant buildings and confusing roads deep inside the abandoned developments of Detroit, only people who know there's good food here will be visiting.

The duo settled at the table, each with their respective meals of a burger with fries and a bottle of thirium, and began to dig in. Silence befell them until Connors internal timer went off.

“We have 15 minutes left of our lunch break,” Connor says. “What would you like to do until we have to go back?”

“Anything except go back to the station _early_ ,” Hank muttered. Connor rolls his eyes. This was nice. Having a late lunch with his best friend was a good way to unwind after one usual shitstorm of a shift. Connor glances at the DPD pin on Hank's brown coat, and looks back at the matching one on his own black blazer.

A year ago he would have never thought he would be in this situation, hell, he would have never thought period! He was an android made to fulfill commands, not think. Coming so far from a time so bleak is something he will never take for granted. Even having the free will to appreciate this simple moment, standing in the freezing snow watching his best friend eat some suspicious “food”, is a privilege. Connor smiles. Hank is too busy inhaling his meal to look at him. He’s glad to spend the rest of his life with him.

Hank suddenly sits up like a deer in the headlights. “Aw shit, I completely forgot!” Hank exclaims “It’s been a year since we met! I had a fuckin’ present for you and everything but it was 3 days ago!”

Wait, he's right. A _year_. But he remembered before Connor… that can’t be right. How could Connor forget such a momentous occasion?! And Hank even got him a PRESENT!

“A present?” Connor asks, still stunned from the revelation.

“Of course I did! It's still hidden in the house... somewhere.” Connor raises an eyebrow at him. 

“I may have hid it when I was drunk,” Hank admits. “But let's make a scavenger hunt out of it! You can search for it when you get home.” 

“Hank why should I have to search for something you shouldn’t have forgotten about in the first place?” Connor asks, smiling lightly.

“Just be grateful, little shit.” Hank chuckles, Connor laughing as well. Connor is screaming on the inside though. Error messages coming up left and right. He completely forgot. He completely forgot it’s been a year since he met Hank. No present, no alert, nothing in his programming marked the date. How could he have let this happen? Even Hank remembered and got him something too! He was in the middle of sinking into a pool of guilt when he received a report from DPD. His LED blinks yellow for a few seconds. Hank scans his expression intently.

“What’s up?” Hank says. When the LED turns a blinding red, Connors' expression changed to complete shock.

“Last night some teenagers broke into the old Cyberlife HQ and heard loud footsteps inside, so they ran” Connor trembled. “When the police got there this morning, the front doors were busted open, and when they got former Cyberlife employees to confirm if anything went missing, they all said one thing,” Connor paused. “The abandoned RK900 model was gone”

“Oh _shit_.” Hank yelled, “It couldn’t have just got up and walked out right? I mean it was abandoned for a year for fucks sake!”

“The power was apparently turned one for a brief moment, allowing for the android to properly activate before turning off again. It wasn’t the teenagers though, they stated the lights flashing on and off drew them to break and enter in the first place.” Connor explains, “CCTV backs this up as well.”

The air was still. It seemed as though neither of them could hear a thing except ringing. Was this really happening? Hank stumbles to his feet and starts briskly walking to the car.

“H-Hank, where are you going?” Connor stuttered

“Back to work. We’re gonna catch this fucker. I don't care _how_ upgraded it is or _how_ badly it wants you dead, It isn’t gonna get the chance.” Hank states flatly. Connor hesitates before running to catch up with Hank. They both get in the car. Connor is nearly blinded with emotions. Fear, anxiety, dread. Was he going to die? His face clearly showed these emotions. Now that he was deviant, he could not change his expression at will.

“Con,” Hank interrupts, sensing his fear, “I promise with my entire heart, everything is gonna be okay. There's no need to worry bud, alright?” He has a warm smile on his face, his hand resting on Connors own. Connor could feel his anxiety reducing, the fluttering feeling going away. His LED returns to a cool blue. He smiles.

“Alright Hank.” He says. Hank starts the car and they drive. Hank never says it, but he doesn't need to. He's happy to spend the rest of his life with Connor too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I hope you guys like the second chapter! my upload schedule is gonna be pretty spotty lmao ill be posting the chapters whenever i feel like it tbh. lmk what u guys think so far!! B)


	3. Livin' the dream baby!

It had been hours of running. Hours of cold. _Cold._ He grew a hatred for it. He stood still in the center of the road, staring at an abandoned building, with buildings the same size on both sides, continuing for the entire block until it ended. Same thing across the street too, with some businesses and housing keeping afloat somehow. He needed to get out of the cold.

The clothes he found around the streets hadn’t helped in keeping him warm, being just a hoodie, socks, and some cargo shorts. The rain had soaked his already tattered garments. His LED had been ripped off too, as to not draw attention to himself.

He slowly crept in between the small alleyway separating the building, and used his elbow to bust the window of the deserted home. The glass did not make much noise. The sounds of the rain covered it up well. He landed on the floor with a dull thud, shards crunching under him.

He scanned his surroundings quickly while standing up. It was just a single room. Covered in dust, with a table, a mattress, and a blanket. On the table sat a small radio. Somebody had squatted here before him, but left in a rush.

As long as he was alone, it wasn't something to worry about now. Letting himself fall flat on the mattress, he thought, and thought, and thought. He came to 3 more conclusions.

1\. His name was now Landon. (He had seen graffiti of this name, and taken a liking to it)

2\. He is missing one piece of his program that gave him his purpose, his _mission_ , allowing him to essentially be a deviant the second he woke up. This was supposed to be located inside of the now closed hatch on top of his head.

3\. He was free.

Free to do whatever he pleased. Free to lay here for the rest of his lifespan, or free to take walks, whatever he pleased. Life is the greatest gift you can have, it was given to him seemingly by mistake. He was going to live it to the fullest for as long as he could. He created a plan for the next day.

9:00am: Volunteer at the animal shelter (Time killer)

1:00pm: Find furniture. His new home looked as lifeless as the room he woke up in

5:00pm: Pick up trash around the city (Another time killer)

From there he would go “home” and play it by ear. He liked this plan, it would work until he found a more stable schedule. He felt comforted making these lists and plans. It made him feel in control in this nightmare of a situation. With his list made and plan set, he was set to activate his rest cycle and cancel the cycle at 8am sharp.

As he was about to do that, he remembered the small radio sitting on the table. Did it still work? It would be extremely helpful in gaining knowledge of the city and events. He slowly rose from the mattress and took a few steps to the table, the floor creaking as he moved. He picked up the radio delicately. He tried to turn it on, but to his disappointment but not surprise, it did not work. He opened the small compartment in the back to find 2 batteries, most likely dead. They dropped into his hand with a gentle thump.

He stared at them. He could have used that radio. How come the batteries were dead? _He needed the radio._ To his bewilderment, a dime sized panel on his wrist opened up and a very tiny tube exited. A blazing blue streak of electricity shot out, lasting for about five seconds before stopping. He jumped back, letting the batteries fall onto the floor.

_What the fuck? What was that? Is that supposed to happen?_ The panel closed by itself. If random shit like this keeps happening, he’s gonna have a lot more to worry about then trying to pass time. He looked at the batteries on the floor. They were… glowing? Glowing blue. Huh. Rising slowly, he grabbed the batteries and put them back into the radio. Worth a shot right? Wait. _It works._

Low murmurs begin emitting from the device, amplified when the volume was increased. It was a weather station. Unbelievable. His body can eject electric outputs at his will. He’s pissed he didn't snag his user manual or something before he left. He gets to discover this all on his own. Fun.

He focuses on the radio. The time is 9:37pm. It's currently raining in Detroit. _Detroit? Better than nothing I suppose._ He falls flat on the mattress, letting his heavy build sink into it. He initiates his “sleep” cycle, which gives him time to analyze memories and discover more about his model. Pretty soon, he will be living the standard human life. Hopefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm new to ao3, and new to creative writing in general lol. I'm gonna be doing more than just Detroit stuff but I'd figure it start out with this story to tell because it's the one that's been stirring in my head the most. I really hope u enjoy this and stay tuned for more of my future works!! B)


End file.
